


Letting The Cat Out Of The Bag

by weekdaydinnermenu



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Frenemies, Gen, Gotham Rogues - Freeform, Remix of a fic, Rewrite, Riddlecat, Sarcasm, good with tech Eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekdaydinnermenu/pseuds/weekdaydinnermenu
Summary: Leave it to Edward Nygma to not give two-cares about sharp claws and promises. RiddleCat beginnings.A belated birthday gift for an absolute cool bean. Inspired by various versions of Crane and a remix of an earlier fic that I found fitting for this.
Relationships: Riddler/Catwoman, Selina Kyle/Edward Nygma
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Letting The Cat Out Of The Bag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DittyWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/gifts).



> If it were up to Edward Nygma, the entire world would know of him and a certain encounter with a feline-inclined individual.

_People watching._  
  
It's such a hackneyed term to Jonathan Crane. Sugarcoating his own particular hobby would do little in his efforts to dispel any seemingly irksome traits he might possess. It had always benefited him, making it an amusement he never did seem to mind.   
  
For others, it was quite obviously a way to mollify their own self-absorbed, mindless needs. After all, everything he did truly benefited his own objective wants _and_ societal needs, Crane told himself. He can feel eyes upon him in the diner momentarily as he takes a sip of his water. It had taken months of careful orchestration to finally even entertain the idea of starting anew with the delightful owner of such a _fine_ establishment like Arkham Asylum. Dr. Jeremiah Arkham found little favor with the Master of Fear. It took only five months _–five months and four days to be exact_ –to convince Dr. Arkham he was ready for "new beginnings". A new record for himself, Jonathan noted.   
  
The location for his choice of dining was a spot familiar to him by luck alone. Patience had come to him after many fallen encounters throughout the years. He found it quite beneficial to have an array of various food stops, convenience stores, secondhand shops, and the occasional bookstore that let him be for the most part. Though Crane was in no more than a darkened sweater and grey slacks at the moment, he found that several citizens were still able to scout him out.   
  
It had been suchan arduous process listening to the current ragtag group of individuals at his makeshift hideout right inside the heart of Gotham. Living within the city itself was something he had never quite acquired the taste for longer-term. It was a rare occasion that _Bat-freak_ had time for his much more modest plans. Odd hits here and there for gullible bosses and individuals alike gave him a steady flow of cash that was less personal in nature, though the money still spent the same.  
  
Scarecrow idly stirred his drink as he half-listened to the self-named Puzzler in front of him, in a way that was almost an annoyance to those around him.   
  
To make matters even more strenuous for Crane, he had happened to chance upon this individual in one of his chattiest moods yet. The moment Edward Nygma had spotted Jonathan from across the underground diner, he promptly picked up his plate and sauntered on over. Now, Jonathan had been listening to him for the past hour as he continued to wait for a business endeavor that had promised fair money for his services. Every second that had continued to pass on was just one more reason for Crane to unleash his latest batch of toxin, finished or not.  
  
As if he needed any more reason, the disgraced and former professor thought. A hum-drum voice broke his thoughts.  
  
"I have no face, yet I possess a tongue. I can be shined, although I am not a flashlight?"  
  
An initial look down was an almost instinct reaction from the former professor, his focus on the shoes he had seemingly picked up _weeks_ ago. He was chagrined to discover that he had once again left the house without changing them.  
  
"I certainly do not possess them to impress anyone, Mr. Nygma," he began, moving towards the edge of his seat, "They have served their intended purpose."  
  
In regards to Edward Nygma, Crane found the puzzler to be tolerable in a sort of impish delight type of way; given the opportunity, he often reveled in his egotistical fits of _simply manic_ outbursts.   
  
Nygma rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well. You could _at least_ answer me directly, you know."  
  
"Coming from the most indirect individual in the world?", Crane responded, looking around the room in a most irritated manner. "Soon you will find me far from indirect. I have been here nearly two hours and as soon as that fool shows up-"  
  
"Business talk, business talk!" Edward waved his hand. "Does it ever grow tiresome? I came here for a simple dinner, not a show."  
  
"You are a walking sideshow, Nygma. And you approached me, mind you! Some of us remain in our ventures full time. With that being said, it would seem you have little to show these past few months; not even a smallest of a heist from you in the papers."  
  
"Why Jonathan, I didn't know you read on me so!"  
  
Crane let out his version of laughter, which was followed by a small _hmmmph_ and sigh of resignation.  
  
"Do you have anywhere else to be that isn't attempting to goad me into snide comments?"  
  
"I've gained far more in months than you could ever dream of!"  
  
The words had left his lips before he even thought on it. For the past several months, Edward had been seeing Selina Kyle on and off.  
  
She had almost sounded more than serious when she threatened to find his most tender spot in a _non-pleasurable_ way if he so decided to reveal her private information. It had been humiliating enough to her that this pompous puzzler had found out her identity from a tech break in Batman's rogue gallery information. One of his greatest feats yet, she had not appreciated it in the slightest when he showed up unannounced at her own place of residence. One chance encounter had ended up leading to another and as such, they found themselves entangled in utter enjoyment of each other they had never expected could even possibly exist.   
  
Normally this would have earned Crane a sharp comment, yet Nygma chose to ignore it. What had happened to him was perhaps the most strange occurrence in all his life. He had kissed Catwoman and more. Though to him, she was now simply Selina.  
  
Selina had sworn him to secrecy upon his finding out. What he had intended to use as information against her had turned against him in a way. He hadn't expected to become smitten with her, and rightfully so. Eddie always believed himself to have a sort of charm to him; it was only a matter of time he surmised before certainly one of the loveliest creatures in Gotham recognized the attention he could dote upon them if granted.   
  
"Spacing out, Nygma? Of course, prattling on for hours at a time is a sign of delirium."  
  
Putting his coffee cup down, Edward spoke in a tone that actually caused Jonathan to look up.   
  
"You could at least answer me directly, you know. My matters of thought are far more important at this moment than yours could ever be."  
  
It was with Jonathan Crane where riddles held little pleasure outside of mocking his own inability to answer him directly on most occasions. He somehow twisted his words, morphing them into his own topic of conversation. In his own annoying way did he answer, coming to the point in a fashion that was half-satisfactory and half disappointment. It compared so little to The Dark Knight, however, leaving him to only realize this irritation when conversing with Crane. As for the verbal assault, Nygma gave it little thought. To him, any previous team-up had resulted in a mishap given the free reigns on leadership. Though in this current day, he had other matters on his mind.  
  
One phlegm-filled cough and Crane stood up. He had grown weary of both the idle conversation and waiting. It was less on the idle chatter of Nyma, but the mere existence of those who chose to ignore his time and energy. With an adjustment of his scarf, Crane went to turn. The other red-haired individual blurted out the first words that came to mind.   
  
"Would you believe the unbelievable if it were told to you, Jonathan?"  
  
"I am here listening to you still, so yes, I can believe that."  
  
With only one matter on his mind, Nygma responded.   
  
"I have just one, but with eight to spare. I am usually friendly, but I sometimes act like I don't care. What am I?"  
  
Straightening his collar, Crane halted his movements out. 

"Another interaction with our dear Catwoman?"  
  
A sudden mention of her name caused tension in him. Knowing that he could in no way mention her real personage, Nygma allowed himself a pause in the conversation.   
  
He was more than tempted to even utter a hint. Knowing that all they had curated together over the past few months could be ruined if he gave way to her identity, Nygma bit his tongue to stop from continuing. This lovely feline was more than just beauty to him; quick and almost humoring him in his riddles, they seemed perhaps more fit than he could have ever believed.   
  
"In more ways than you would ever know," he couldn't help but reply.   
  
This piqued the interest of Jonathan, who turned his eyes towards the green-shirted individual. Crane had developed a certain aptitude for telling when people were lying, and this seemed like an off-chance that Nygma wasn't.   
  
Eyebrows raised, Crane replied. "If you are truly not testing me, I would almost be inclined to believe you. Perhaps there is some pity in you that anyone can snuff out. Our fellow cat lady would seem -"  
  
"She has a name, you know." he sharply interrupted, as if the words he spoke were a weapon of sorts.   
  
"Really now?", Crane replied far more dryly than he had anticipated. Little to the knowledge of Edward Nygma, Crane had witnessed one of their encounters on an accidental meet-up months ago. A short kiss and shove was all this Catwoman had given him before Crane came out, acting as if nothing had happened. She had little to say to him, instead simply swapping out his toxin that she was to deliver for a hefty amount of jewels and cash.  
  
If either of them had a fear of being caught, only one of them hid it well.   
  
_And it certainly wasn't the individual in front of him with mussy auburn sideburns and maple syrup on his upper lip._  
  
Perhaps this Catwoman enjoyed the irksome mans' company; pity for dumb animals, Crane thought to himself.   
  
Standing up from the table, Edward seemed almost insulted; and Crane was quick to note that for once, it wasn't regarding an insult that had been hurled towards him.  
  
"If what you say is true", Crane began, backing away as several people turned to look at them, turning back around once the former professor glared them down. "Then shall I send a gift basket?"  
  
The thought of The Riddler fighting him almost made Crane laugh in a most undignified manner. He was able to stifle the chuckle, instead choosing to tip his hand and head just slightly.  
  
"I see more than you believe, Edward."  
  
The emphasis on his first name caused Nygma to glance into the icy blue eyes of Crane. In a way, they were not as calamitous or vulgar looking as sometimes. When relaxed, he seemed nearly dignified in nature, eyebrows arched naturally to the point where a Bond villain would find envy with him. He often thought of how Selina mocked him, though it was nearly always pitiful and playful in manner. In a way, it wasn't dissimilar to the way she talked of Nygma at times.   
  
"If you would so forgive me," Jonathan began, voice as honeyed and polite as Edward had ever heard it. "I believe there are business matters to attend to. You know how in-demand I find myself."  
  
Though he was tempted to follow Jonathan out, Edward reasoned that he would have more than enough time to discuss these matters with him at the upcoming event at the local lounge Oswald had established recently. Crane was desperate for business in a sense after using almost all of his supplies after Halloween. This was a fact Edward and several others took heavy advantage of. Crane was far from humble in that manner, a fact all rogues remained aware of. Scarecrow turned, his eyes now not far from half-slits that he allowed to beam out from his mask at times. The puzzler wanted to speak, yet found the presence of Crane somehow louder than his without so much as the utterance of a few words.  
  
"If you think I hold disputes against you, or wish you harm of any sort, then perhaps you should consider where you find yourself in comradeship. More on this conversation later, yes?"   
  
The self-titled Duke of Dread was out of earshot by the time the man who started this entire conversation started off on what the professor could only assume was another tangent about his method of answering. After all, he rarely indulged others in small delights of his. For Edward Nygma, that would take far more than conundrums and weekday crossword puzzle questions to attract the attention of Jonathan Crane. No matter what intimate moments he had witnessed, Crane certainly found little interest holding this over the head of either of them. In fact, it piqued his interest in an odd sort of way. He had found this Catwoman severely untamed, yet composed at the same time.  
  
Lovely as she was, her words and mind seemed far more of interest to him. Crane pushed the door of the diner open swiftly and left the establishment.  
  
He thought about the shame they might feel, the utter eroticism of it all.  
  
_The fear of being found out._  
  
That someone like her could be attracted to someone like him. As if the smile that Nygma gave him wasn't coy enough...  
  
A rough bump into a man only a few inches under his height broke Crane of his thoughts as he kept walking. Crane would have ordinarily chided the man and even on occasion released the occasional fear toxin from under his thick coat before rushing off. Opting out of it this time for some reason was unknown even to him.  
  
He approached the walkway to the street that led to his current hideout. Though he found himself not wanting to admit it, the possibility of someone like her being of interest to him found itself on his mind.  
  
And Jonathan certainly wouldn't admit to the reddened cheeks that had chanced upon his face as his lank and gloved fingers pressed the walkway button and waited for the green to go.   
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
